Carry on My Wayward Winchester
by Elphaba Fiyerobert
Summary: What really happened to Sam while Dean was in Hell? How did he cope? We know he tried to break a deal with anyone who would listen,we know he abandioned Bobby and wouldn't answer his phone. We know he found and was tricked by Ruby,but what else happened?
1. Chapter 1

Part One.

Sam stood there, holding Dean's tattered body in his arms. Covered in his brother's blood as he tried to repair the damage done by the Hell Hounds on his body. Sam felt empty, numb, he'd known that his moment was coming for nearly a year now. They both had, ever since Dean had made the deal to bring his brother back. Sam had never given up hope that they could save him, he'd never stopped trying to find a way to break the deal. Even after Dean had told him breaking it would mean Sam's own death.

Slowly as he sat there, cradling the body, it dawned on Sam's exhausted mind that it was over finally. He checked Dean's pulse, the body was already growing cold. Anger hit Sam first, he paced the floor trying to control his sub human rage bubbling inside him. "Damn you Dean!" he exploded, "Why the hell did you have to make a deal for me! Why couldn't you have left me dead?" He pounded the body with his fists and feet, "Just because you couldn't cope with your own grief, now you throw it all on me. Expect me to be the better man, well fuck you! You selfish bastard!"

One last kick and Sam stared as Dean's lifeless body slumped onto its side. Sam sunk to his knees in tears, he didn't know how to live without his brother, how to carry on the fight all alone. Sam didn't know how long he had been there holding his brother's body, before Bobby came crashing into the room. He noticed vaguely that it was now pitch black outside and the moon was high.

"Oh balls!" Bobby exclaimed, coming over to check the boy's pulse and finding nothing but icy flesh. "Sam, it's time to go son, you don't need to be here okay?" he asked, "You need to get some sleep, while I clean up here and salt and burn the body."

Sam looked up at him distantly, half hearing what was said. Shock had hit him hard, he was shaking and shivering. Not just from sitting on the frozen floor for hours either. Bobby looped his arms up and under Sam's shoulders to slowly pull him upright, he'd forgotten how tall the boy was. Sam rested his head on Bobby's shoulder broken, he was the closest thing to family that the boy had left. "Oh Sam, Don't you get me crying too boy!"

Dazed Sam allowed Bobby to lead him back to the car, and get inside. "Now you stay here and rest Sammie, while I do what needs to be done." Bobby said, turning the heater up and covering Sam with a blanket to try and stave off any chill he might have caught.

As he turned to leave, Sam grabbed his arm. "Don't burn him." He whispered.

"Sam, you aren't thinking right, and I don't blame ya right now, but Dean needs to be at peace." Bobby answered gently.

"Bury him, don't burn him, please." Sam insisted.

"Why Sammie?"

"Cause he will need his body when I bring him back." Was the answer, barely a whisper.

Bobby tapped Sam's hand, "He won't thank you for that Sammie, no more then you are right now." He sighed looking into Sammie's puppy dog eyes, "Okay, I will bury him, now get some rest!"

Bobby gave the boy one last backward glance as he went to wash up the blood and take care of the body. "Dean, I could kick you sorry ass for this!" he said as he carried the body to the side of the road for the burial. "Can't you see what you've done to that kid? To me!" Bobby exclaimed, "It's gonna be all I can do to stop him taking the high jump after you!"

The old hunter grouched all through digging the grave, he bitched while he lined it with salt and silver, and he moaned all through covering Dean over again. When Bobby was done, he marked the grave with a simple wooden cross and tipped his whisky flask all over the grave. "I pray to whatever god is up there, that you stay dead this time Dean, and that your brother doesn't end up in a shallow grave next to you!" he drawled, heading back to take care of Sam.

Bobby drank and paced outside Sam's room back at his own place, for the next few days. Sam never left his room, apart from to use the bathroom. Never ate, barely drank water, just slept and slept. Now and then Bobby could hear crying coming out of the room. It tore his heart open to know the boy was suffering so much, so close by, without allowing him to help.

Angry Sam smashing things, he could cope with, leaving out cheap china to be broken. Even drunk out of his mind Sam, he could put to bed and take care of. Even if he went back on the demon blood, Bobby would understand. It would be something, not this emotionless, sleeping, non-existing wreck. Bobby was in agony inside himself, for both of his boys. He'd lost one, and now it felt like he was losing the other one as well. He drank himself to sleep every night, after Sam ignored him knocking on the door and trying to get him to eat.

Bobby sat at his desk trying to research demon deals, resurrection spells and anything that could safely help Sam in his task to bring Dean back, he couldn't concentrate on what he was doing. The words seemed to swim in front of the old man's eyes. The fifth of a bottle already inside him, and he was moving steadily towards a second was not helping his research in the slightest. But it helped to plug some of the raw pain bleeding in his heart. Bobby's head was nodding as Sam walked downstairs. His head snapped upright as he heard the noise. "Sssam, you okayyyyy?" he slurred, blinking to try and focus on the boy's face.

The boy was rumpled, clearly hadn't showered or combed his hair, and had pulled on whatever clothing had been nearly. "I'm going for a drive." He said softly.

"Sssammie, don't you do nothing sstupid, ya hear mee?" Bobby said struggling up from the chair, while trying not to fall on his ass.

"I will." Sam said in a dead voice, as he let himself out of the house.

"Damn it!" Bobby muttered, knowing in his current condition he couldn't stop the boy. "Dean I hope you can see what you are doing to that kid!" he exclaimed.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

Sam stood at the crossroads, the impala slumbering behind him. He had the box in his hands, they were shaking as he buried it in the dirt by the road. He didn't care what it took, he had to see his brother again. "Please, please, please, come on!" he muttered pacing up and down waiting for the summing to work.

Crowley appeared behind him, "Sammie darling, you have to stop with these demon deals. This is what, your sixth, seventh attempt?" he asked.

"I won't stop until I have my brother back!" Sam demanded.

"No one's gonna deal Sammie, Dean isn't coming back. So write in to Opera and get over yourself." Crowley replied.

Sam grabbed the demon, and slammed him back against the hood of the car, holding Ruby's knife to his throat, "Give me my brother back." He hissed, he was desperate and had nothing to lose anymore.

Crowley remained cool as a cucumber as he was attacked, he had had worse over the years then one love sick puppy minus his master. "I am the King of the Crossroads Sammie, there's nothing higher than me bar Lucifer himself and you don't want to be messing with him. He already has a vested interest in you, and it's not one that you want to encourage. I say that we won't deal, we can't deal, the boss wants you here Sam. So don't bother calling anymore, you just won't get an answer. Now you are grieving so I will forgive the manors, THIS TIME. I won't be so forgiving next time."

He vanished, leaving Sam falling into the car, cutting all of his face as he did so. Defeated he headed back to Bobby's and let himself inside.

Bobby looked like hell, but still drew him into a bear hug. "It's been ten days Sam, you don't pick up the phone, you don't call. I thought you were dead!" He exclaimed.

Sam barely touched the man back. "They won't deal." Was all he said. He picked up some tomes from the table, and a bottle, heading for his room.

"Sam, please don't." Bobby asked.

"I have to, he's my brother." He answered as he walked up the stairs.

Sam closed the door with a click, and collapsed down it. Letting the grief his him as he gulped down the whisky straight from the bottle like it was his new best friend. He wanted to escape this pain, forget his life and pretend that his brother was in the other room alive and well still, even if it was only for a few moments. He couldn't feel every emotion running through his body right now, it was just too much to process.

The next few days, Sam ate little, drank far more, and studied for a way to return his brother, using every trick he could think of. Bobby let him be, tried to make sure the kid ate now and then. Until one night he came down to find a plastered Sam who could barely keep himself upright trying to perform a hoodoo resurrection spell. "What are you trying to do now!" he exclaimed, looking over the chicken feet, bones and bowls of blood set with black candles all around.

Sam shrugged, and gulped down some more of the gut rot that they both seemed to be drinking like water lately.

"You gotta let him lie Sam, let him rest. This…." Bobby grabbed up one of the bowls, "This is some serious mojo, there ain't no coming back from here. What comes back won't be Dean at all, not anymore then you will be the Sam we all love. Stop this before it's too late!"

Exhausted Sam nodded, "I have to get him back!"

"Not like that Sam, don't go making him some kind of zombie!" Bobby pleaded.

Sam fell into the chair nearly, taking another drink. "I don't know what to do anymore." He admitted.

"Nor do I son, but he wouldn't want this!" Bobby said, "You know that the drink ain't helping you son any more then it is me. You need to pick yourself and keep on fighting."

"I can't," Sam answered, "I haven't got anything left."

Bobby slapped him hard, "Don't you go quitting on me as well, I lost one of you. I can't lose both!" He was close to tears, worried sick about him.

Sam saw that and dragged his father figure into a tight embrace, "I won't I promise!" he whispered.

"Come on, let's get you into bed so you can sleep it off. Things will look better in the morning!" Bobby promised, not believing one word of what he said. Sam was too heavy, too drunk to move far, so Bobby ended up bedding him down on the sofa. The boy was asleep before the old man had even pulled his boots off. He shook his head, covering the sleeping boy with a blanket.

Pottering back to the bottle, and to watch over Sam while he slept. He looked at a picture of the three of them together smiling, and happy. He'd had it framed up to remember the good times, or at least try to. Bobby sighed, "I don't know how to reach him Dean, I don't know how to save him. You were the only one who could never get to him when he was this low. I wish you were here."

When Bobby woke up, the sun was high in the sky. The blanket was folded up on the sofa, a single piece of paper rested on top. He opened it to find just two words- I'm sorry. He shook his head, that boy was gonna do something stupid, he felt it in his bones.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

A month had passed, Dean had been gone now for nearly three months and Sam had tried every trick, every deal, and every spell he could think of. Nothing had worked even slightly, no one could tell him anything he could use to help. Dean was gone, and he was all alone in the world. Sam didn't care about anything or anyone, not anymore, not even himself. He'd lost everyone he'd ever cared about, Mom, Dad, Jess and now Dean as well. Bobby kept on ringing, but Sam never picked up. What was the point? He was cursed, everyone he loved died. It was better to ignore him and forgo the sticky ending he was bound to cause.

Sam had hit rock bottom, and then slunk a few miles lower. He was drunk nearly all of the time, hunted wildly nearly getting killed a few hundred times. A fine white scare across his neck where a hook man had nearly removed his head a few weeks back, when he had lost his focus. He wouldn't kill himself, he'd promised that much, but he certainly wasn't going to fight to stay alive either.

Sam stumbled down an alleyway back towards his cheap motel, one step forwards, and at least three back again. He tripped and ended up on his ass in a pile of black bags of garbage outside a sleazy restaurant. He giggled at himself, all the times he had laughed at Dean when he was drunk, and now there was no one to laugh at him bar himself. Sam's head drooped, he was so sleepy, he could just fall asleep right here despite the smell.

"Looky what we have here, the solo Winchester. I hope that he doesn't pass out before I have my fun!" a female voice said.

A male voice joined her, "Drink deeply my sister, for his blood is that of an addict full of exciting tastes."

True enough, Sam had used tonight as well as the beer and whisky. He wasn't sure what it had been either, angel dust, E, something white, powdery and oh so good. He'd tried a number of different substances, but this cocktail was his personal favourite. A blissful high, and a good night's sleep free of nightmares, before the mind numbing crash in the morning and the need to take something else. Distantly he realised the man was a vampire and feeding on him, adding the vampire's thrall to the other highs he was already feeling. Sam was lost in an ocean of sensations, too fucked up to even realise that he was dying.

Ruby had been following Sam for a long while, watching from the background. Keeping him alive without ever showing her face. This time she had no choice if she wanted him to stay alive. Ruby staked the girl, the man stood and snarled at her, she sliced his throat clean through. "What have you gotten yourself into now Sam?" she asked.

"Ruby?" he asked, and promptly passed out.

She rolled her black eyes. "Mortals!" she exclaimed, throwing Sam over her shoulder and dragging him back to his motel room. The place was littered with dirty clothing, pizza boxes and bottles. It stank, then again so did the meat suit that she was dragging. "Sam Winchester you are a slob!"

The boy roused himself as she threw him onto the bed. "What are you doing here?" he asked still pretty away with the fairies.

"Watching over you, and your self destructive tendencies!"

"Why?"

Ruby sighed, "Maybe I miss him too, maybe I care about you a little bit more then I should." She put on her best vulnerable face and tried to blush just a little bit.

Whatever it was, it worked. Sam sat up and pulled her into a kiss filled with so much deep need and hunger. Need not just for love, but companionship and understanding as well. Someone to share the pain and the burden with. They parted and Ruby looked down at him, straddling herself across his body. Pushing him down onto the bed, as she unbuttoned his shirt. "That's it Sammie, let me show you a better life, one free of all your survivor guilt."

"Please!" Sam begged, he needed something to cling to. Something to ground him, to keep him alive, even if it was Ruby, He was so broken, so fucked up he'd take it anywhere he could.

Ruby took the knife and slit her breast, pushing Sam's head down until he drank deeply, sending shivers of passion through bot of their bodies. "Say hello to your birth right Sam." She whispered as he fed and felt whole for the first time in his life.


	4. Chapter 4

Part Four

Final Part

Ruby showed Sam how to live again, the ache in his heart never went away. Sure he had good days now as well as bad, but at least finally he could function again. He hunted demons with Ruby by his side, a sister, lover and teacher all in one. He was strong again, stronger than he had ever felt in his life. The blood made him so powerful, like he was superman or something. He was saving lives again, expelling the demon from the human host without harming them. It felt good, it felt right. Even though at the back of his mind he could feel his brother scolding him, Sam ignored that voice and carried on as best he could. Without Ruby, and the blood he drank, he had nothing to life for.

Tired from the hunt this particular night, and his heart heavy as he hadn't seen Ruby for a few days, Sam reverted back to his old form. Bought himself a few dime bags, and a couple of bottles of whisky, and he headed back to the motel to relax with a carton of fried chicken. The room was a mess, clothing (his and hers) all over the place. He really needed to do his laundry sometime soon, before he ran out of semi clean shirts. But tomorrow was another day, as always.

Sam kicked off his shoes, snorted his powder and settled down to watch some of the pay per view with the bottle and his meal. Leaving the rest of his stash on the table with his change, and keys. He relaxed, letting the toxins do their work unknotting his tired muscles as he watched the busty blondes on screen popping out as if they were in the room with him.

Not the way that Sam would want to be found b anyone he knew, yet alone Bobby and the Castiel raised brother of his. Then again, as he didn't know that his brother had been returned to life three days ago, found Bobby, and they were both now hunting him down, Sam had no idea he needed to please anyone bar himself right now.

"You sure this is the place?" Bobby asked as they stood outside a motel room door in the early dawn, as Dean picked the lock. "It could be anyone in there, what if we walk in on something we shouldn't?"

"What, Sammie have a girl in there?" Dean asked, "That's not his style, I bet he's in there watching the discovery channel flicking though some dusty old book about demons. Thinking this is the wildest time you can have while you are alive!"

He couldn't have been more wrong…..

Dean's jaw dropped as he opened the door to find messy clothing and half eaten take out containers everywhere. He picked up a lilac bra from the floor, "Maybe you were right Bobby, I don't think this is the right room."

It was an addict's home, bottles and packets of powder on the table, some loud porn in the background and a young man lying on the bed touching himself. So out of it that he hadn't even heard them enter. Dean was about to excuse himself when he realised exactly who the boy was. "SAMMIE!" he exclaimed, how could it be SAM getting high, drinking and watching porn in this doss hole. He was anal retentive, OCD almost at keeping clean. The boy hardly drank, always ate healthily, and he hated watching porn.

"Oh God!" Bobby exclaimed, realising the same thing and knowing what would come next. "Sam I thought you had given up all this!"

"You KNEW!" Dean exploded, "You LET my brother turn into some pathetic stoner!"

By this time, Sam had covered himself and staggered from the bed. "Dean?" he asked, trying to focus. "Am I dreaming?"

"No, son, your brother is alive." Bobby said gently.

"And he is pissed off, what the hell have you been up to!" Dean demanded, looking at his brother again his heart softened. He'd lost so much weight, sunken eyes, he noticed a battery of new scars down the boy's body. Including a most disturbing one on his neck, the kid had been through hell here too.

Sam wanted to believe what he was seeing so much, but he knew it was impossible. He wanted it to be true far too much, he wasn't so lucky. Not the cursed demon blood boy. Sam pulled out his knife and went for Dean, slashing at his flesh.

"Whoa, Whoa!" Bobby insisted, "I've already been through all of this. It's really him, I promise you."

"Like he couldn't have turned you as well!" Sam exclaimed as Dean moved back fast from the swinging blade. Sam ripped down the curtains flooding the room with the early light.

"I'm not a vampire Sam, or a demon, skin walker or anything else, I'm just me." Dean insisted, holding his hands up trying not to be a threat. No sudden movements, the boy might be out of his gourd, but he was still a hunter. A pretty damn good one at that to still be functioning in the state he was in, and fighting, the boy hadn't lost his edge when he'd lost his mind that was for sure. "Give me the knife Sam, and I will prove it okay?" he asked carefully.

Sam eyed him slowly, opening the draw behind him to pull out his gun, training it on him slowly. He threw the knife over to the maybe fake brother. Dean caught it easily, and sliced his upper arm near the half healed cut he had made to prove himself to Bobby. It tortured him to see his brother like this, he hated himself for putting Sam through it all. Sam threw holy water on him, while he was cutting himself. Dean spat it out, and looked pointedly bored. "We done here kid?" he asked.

The gun wobbled in Sam's hands, "Oh please let this be real!" he whispered, "Don't let me wake up and it's all been a dream!"

Dean saw an opening and grabbed it, snatching the gun out of Sam's wavering fingers, pulling him into a massive hug at the same moment. "I'm so sorry for leaving you Sam, I really am."

Sam cried into his brothers shoulders, Bobby tried to fade into the back ground and pretend that he wasn't crying too. They were entitled to their moment of privacy to get used to the new data. Sam couldn't even put into words how he felt right now, happy, relieved, terrified his was dreaming, embarrassed that Dean had seen him in his low times. That was not a memory he wanted Dean to have of him, he wanted him to remember his brother as stronger than that, but it was too late now. "I missed you." He choked out.

The set Dean off as well, "I missed you too kid, 4 months is too long to be apart from those you love." Thinking of how much longer it had been for him, but not wanting to worry Sam in his frail state. He dragged Bobby into the group hug. Their family whole once again, hopefully never again to be parted.

"Just promise me that I won't ever find you taking drugs again?" Dean asked, "I don't want to know why you were taking, or what you have done. I just want you to be safe and alive!"

"I promise!" Sam said with feeling, still choked up at the thought of his brother being alive.

They stood there for a few awkward moments, not knowing what to say or do after so long apart. Then Dean broke the silence, "So where can I dead man get a slice of pie around here?"

They all laughed.

"Pie shop around the corner." Sam answered.

Dean threw a semi clean towel at his brother, "You better go shower then while I got order and clean up some of this trash!" he ordered, pocketing the drugs to get rid of when Sam wasn't looking. He closed the door behind him to go get the pie, his world crushed. He was hurting so badly, the flames of Hell skating across his field of vision.

Dean was scared, shaken tormented by images and memories of 40 years of torture not the four months he was admitting to. However much he was hurting though, he knew the others were hurting as badly as well. He needed to be strong for Sam, and for himself. That boy had sunk low, and he still had the question to ask: What had it cost Sam to bring his brother back. But right now they needed just one good day together, and then they could deal with the shit of real life. Just one day of pie, beer and chilling out. Tomorrow he would kick Sam's ass for selling his soul.

Author's note, please excuse a few pieces used from later series, it just worked with the entirety of what I was working with.

Thanks


End file.
